"On Yuba City" by John Rollin Ridge
Where Providence has placed her,
The glory 's passed to other hands,
That should by right have graced her.
She stands with aspect sad, but high,
And gazes on the river,
That like a stranger passes by,
And nothing has to give her.
Alas, that beauty thus should fade,
Or live so unregarded!
And all the efforts art has made
For her pass unrewarded
Are not her groves most fair to see,
Her paths full greenly skirted?
What has she said, or done, to be
Thus doomed, and thus deserted?
Though melancholy her decline,
By mem'ries sweet 'tis haunted,
And luring tones and forms divine
Still make her scenes enchanted.
There, peace domestic reigns supreme,
In quiet, holy, beauty,
And like the smiles angels, seem
Parental, filial duty.
Her aged ones are good and mild,
Her children fair and witty.
But Caroline's the fairest child
That charms the lonely city!
I've seen her at the morning prime—
The sky looked sweeter, bluer!
I've seen her at the evening time—
The stars seem bending to her!
Oh, Yuba City! 'tis a sin
Thou'rt lonely and forsaken,
When uglier cities favor win,
And prosperous paths have taken.
Who seeks for beauty, they shall meet
The picture where they find thee—
The Feather River at thy feet,
The lofty Buttes behind thee.
And they will bless the quiet scene
That holds thee like a jewel,
And weep that thou 'st abandoned been
To fortunes cold and cruel.
But, Yuba City, time will cast
The changes in thy favor,
The future shall redeem the past—
Thou'lt stand whilst others waver!